Fathers Day for me is a mixed bag, both happy and sad. It might be ironic that this one day could so strongly share two opposing emotions. Bare with me for a moment as I struggle to put into words what I am feeling inside.
Sadness for not knowing my biological father who divorced us when I was very young. And for whatever reason never making his presence known even to his passing. My father, yes, but I could ever call him my dad.
Wait now, there is more. I said a mixed bag.there is one I am honored to call my dad. He married my mom and took me in as his son. Biological, no but he was my dad.. How can I say that? Simple …. Fatherhood doesn’t stop when you drop that seed. It just begins. To grow that seed must be nurtured both in and when it comes out of the womb. In my case it was necessary to transplant..without attention I would wither and die.
He was there in the good time and the bad. Strict but fair. He passed twelve years ago. And I miss him a lot. Proud that he chose me to be his son … And very proud to call HIM MY DAD.